They were listening more than a half of these compositions. And their choice stopped on the song "Autumn in New York". It was beautiful, smooth and poetic, so why not? Cynthia was excited tocommunicate with a person who also head over heels withjazz. The girl could easily say thathe became her motivation todo something. The teacher felt the same way: she was inspired by her unique music taste. After all the student was thinking that he would make her play classical music. Her other teachers did it.
"It was very nice to meet you, Cynthia", Ray waved his hand and smiled. He was feeling something new with this person. The man got used to being like a father to his students. He appreciated them and gave a chance to express themselves. And this girl in his eyes..
"Thank you a lot, Mr. Manzarek". On her cheeks appeared pink spots. She tried not to show them. He was just a teacher, yeah? Cynthia had to concentrateon the piano. There was nothing like that. Or maybe she wanted to hide her shyness.
"Call me Ray, please". Hegrinned. The man didn't like all this official stuff. The most important thing for him was comfortable and friendly atmosphere. Not strict or evil. Because memories from college ran after him wherever he went. "See you". Ray said softly.
"See you", Cynthia left the building and started walking along october streets. Rain had ended and she could put her umbrella in the bag enjoying wet evening weather.
"It's autumn in New York That brings the promise of new love Autumn in New York Is often mingled with pain".
Ray for whole his life was observing devil teachers who could yell at you just because you played a wrong note. And he promised to himself not to be like them. Maybe the man was kind and affectionate. It was impossible for him to treat students like they were a piece of trash. His goal was to teach and be patient. But he opened something new.
"Dreamers with empty hands They sigh for exotic lands
It's autumn in New York It's good to live it again".
Cynthia for whole her life was trying adapt to her teachers. If they said that she had to play classical music, the girl would do it. There was no choice and no option. When it was the end of the day and her house was closed from teachers' eyes, she was listening and playing jazz music. In this genre was her soul. And the reader could assume that her heart was there too.
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It was another lesson. Another rehearsal. For those two weeks a brown-haired girl and a man with round glasses became good friends. They were laughing and studying together. Those moments were unforgettable.
"I love when you're playing this song", Ray said and laughed quietly when she got closer to him, asking.
"Have you heard this song in live?" The teacher turned his head toward Cynthia and noticed her smirk. Surely, it was a hint. And he was waiting for her to continue talking.
